Dream: [Alameda Row]
Wednesday, January 25th:
I recognized the pretty girl at the admissions counter. She was a Mac alumnus, someone I'd never really met, but she stood out. She still wore her dark hair short, and the formal black of Admissions Manager suited her. I was pleased things had worked out for her; it was a theme park, but important... maybe like Delos. Some synthesis of banker and airline administrator.
Sharon, April, and musicin68 had gotten tickets, and I hurried to catch up. I didn't want to miss the beginning of the movie, even if it was... whatever they were dragging me to see.
Sometime later, I met another alumnus who'd been locally famous as a DJ and show host on WMCN. His curly blond hair had been chemically relaxed, and so had he. We didn't talk very long, but he started telling a story about richandfamous, and I mentioned that I used to live with him.
I wandered a tranquil residential neighborhood near sunset, followed winding streets over low hills and looped back into the valleys. I intended to go out tagging later on, and I was planning ahead. (Although, in retrospect, it isn't really tagging if it isn't my name/handle, right? And if it isn't trying to be pretty like graffiti... is it just bad graffiti?) I wanted to leave small, declarative statements on sidewalks and street corners, something that would look officially municipal but a bit out of place.
Walking along a short street that arched between rows of townhouses, I considered marking [Alameda Row] on the sidewalk near the summit. I liked the way the street caught the sunlight and tossed it down the alleys; it tied everything together, and it needed a micro-neighborhood name to recognize that. [Alameda Row] sounded sunny, and it rolled around nicely in the mouth. Yes, that would do. I headed home and debated whether spray paint or permanent marker would look more genuine.
I recognized the pretty girl at the admissions counter. She was a Mac alumnus, someone I'd never really met, but she stood out. She still wore her dark hair short, and the formal black of Admissions Manager suited her. I was pleased things had worked out for her; it was a theme park, but important... maybe like Delos. Some synthesis of banker and airline administrator.
Sharon, April, and musicin68 had gotten tickets, and I hurried to catch up. I didn't want to miss the beginning of the movie, even if it was... whatever they were dragging me to see.
Sometime later, I met another alumnus who'd been locally famous as a DJ and show host on WMCN. His curly blond hair had been chemically relaxed, and so had he. We didn't talk very long, but he started telling a story about richandfamous, and I mentioned that I used to live with him.
I wandered a tranquil residential neighborhood near sunset, followed winding streets over low hills and looped back into the valleys. I intended to go out tagging later on, and I was planning ahead. (Although, in retrospect, it isn't really tagging if it isn't my name/handle, right? And if it isn't trying to be pretty like graffiti... is it just bad graffiti?) I wanted to leave small, declarative statements on sidewalks and street corners, something that would look officially municipal but a bit out of place.
Walking along a short street that arched between rows of townhouses, I considered marking [Alameda Row] on the sidewalk near the summit. I liked the way the street caught the sunlight and tossed it down the alleys; it tied everything together, and it needed a micro-neighborhood name to recognize that. [Alameda Row] sounded sunny, and it rolled around nicely in the mouth. Yes, that would do. I headed home and debated whether spray paint or permanent marker would look more genuine.